mom

no time

I have gone too long with no time. No time to myself. No time for nothing, for sinking in and filtering out. No time for spinning life into language. I grow brittle and snappish.

I said to Watt, "I have worked myself into a schedule which doesn't allow time for writing. If I continue this way I will shatter." He answered, "Then schedule writing time before everything else." Such a clean and simple answer.

Thursday - 10 am -
Tulips blooming in the yards with southern exposure. And dandelions and daffodils.
Gone for a weekend, we come home to find all the budding trees gone to leaf. Second story canopy-green opening over us. We have been windblown for so long, we are ready for something soft.